Three weeks had passed since that first hospital visit, and Nana had developed a routine that would have been embarrassing if she had any shame left.
Which she didn't.
Every other day, she found reasons to show up at Linkon Hospital. Sometimes with legitimate injuries—scraped knuckles, bruised ribs, the occasional cut that may or may not have needed professional attention. Sometimes without any injury at all, just showing up at the ER desk with a bright smile and asking if Dr. Li was available.
The nurses had started recognizing her. Some found it amusing. Others looked at her with the kind of sympathy reserved for people with obvious crushes.
Nana didn't care. She was on a mission far more important than her dignity.
But the hospital visits were just the beginning.
She'd learned that Zayne volunteered for field medical support—going out with hunter teams to provide immediate care during missions. It was dangerous work that most doctors avoided, but Zayne being Zayne, he did it anyway.
So naturally, Nana started volunteering for the same missions.
"Isn't it convenient," her team leader had said with poorly concealed amusement, "that you keep requesting assignments that happen to have Dr. Li as medical support?"
"Pure coincidence," Nana had replied with a completely straight face.
"Right. And I'm the Emperor of China."
But he'd approved the assignments anyway, because having an S-class hunter volunteer for field work was never a bad thing. Even if her motivations were... questionable.
Today's mission was supposed to be routine. A medical outreach to one of the outer districts where civilians occasionally needed treatment and Wanderer activity was minimal.
Zayne had set up a temporary clinic in an abandoned storefront, treating everything from minor injuries to chronic conditions for people who couldn't afford the hospital. Nana had positioned herself outside, ostensibly on patrol but really just keeping watch.
Like a bodyguard. Or maybe Wonder Woman, if Wonder Woman spent half her time trying to figure out how to accidentally-on-purpose get her charge to fall in love with her.
She'd been leaning against the wall, eating one of the strawberry candies Zayne had given her yesterday (she was rationing them now, making them last), when the Wanderers appeared.
Three of them, medium-sized, attracted by the concentration of people in one location.
Inside the clinic, Nana could see Zayne through the window. He was finishing up with a patient—an elderly woman whose arm he was carefully bandaging. His movements were precise, controlled, completely focused on his work.
He hadn't noticed the Wanderers yet.
The creatures were closing in, their bodies flickering with that distinctive unstable energy. Thirty meters. Twenty. Ten.
Zayne looked up, finally sensing something wrong. His hand moved to his side where he kept his evol-powered weapon—a blade that could form ice crystals to freeze and shatter Wanderers.
But Nana was faster.
She launched herself from the wall, covering the distance in seconds. Her aether core flared blue, enhancing her speed and strength as her leg came up in a devastating kick.
The first Wanderer never saw it coming. Her boot connected with what passed for its head, and the creature exploded into dust.
The second one turned toward her just in time to receive a roundhouse kick that sent it crashing into a wall. It tried to get up. Nana kicked it again. And again. Until it dissolved.
The third Wanderer attempted to flee. Nana caught it mid-escape with a flying kick that would have made any martial arts instructor proud, if also slightly horrified by the complete disregard for proper technique in favor of raw aggression.
Three Wanderers. Fifteen seconds. All eliminated with kicks before they could get anywhere near the clinic.
Nana landed in a crouch, slightly out of breath, her leg throbbing from the impacts. Worth it.
Behind her, she heard the clinic door open.
"Miss Wang." Zayne's voice was that particular blend of exasperation and resignation that she'd come to recognize as his "dealing with Nana" tone. "Did you seriously just kick three Wanderers with your bare leg? Again?"
Nana turned and grinned at him, ignoring the bruise she could already feel forming on her shin. And her chin, where one of the Wanderers had managed a glancing blow before she'd obliterated it.
"I had my boots on this time," she pointed out. "That's progress."
"That's not progress. That's barely an improvement." Zayne was already moving toward her, his medical bag in hand and his expression set in those familiar lines of professional concern. "Everyone in Linkon knows about the S-class hunter who kicks Wanderers before using her weapons. Do you know what they call you?"
"Wonder Woman?" Nana suggested hopefully.
"The Barbarian. They call you the Barbarian."
"Oh." She considered this. "That's actually kind of cool."
"It's not a compliment, Nana."
But she noticed he'd used her first name without prompting. He'd been doing that more often lately, dropping the formal "Miss Wang" in favor of just "Nana."
Progress.
The elderly patient Zayne had been treating peeked out from the clinic, saw the Wanderer dust settling, and quickly retreated back inside. Smart woman.
Zayne set his medical bag down and gestured for Nana to sit on the nearby bench. "Let me see."
"I'm fine," Nana said, even as she sat down obediently. "Just a few bruises."
"You have a bruise forming on your chin that suggests one of them got a hit in. And I can see you favoring your left leg." His hands were already examining her chin with professional efficiency, tilting her head to check the extent of the injury. "You nearly gave me a heart attack. Again."
"You were worried about me?" Nana batted her eyelashes, trying for innocent and probably landing somewhere around shameless.
Zayne's ears turned slightly pink—that telltale flush that meant she'd flustered him. "I'm a doctor. I worry about all my patients doing inadvisable things."
"I'm your patient now?"
"You show up at the hospital every other day requesting medical attention and strawberry candies. I think that qualifies."
"So you admit you give me special treatment."
"I admit you're unusually persistent." He moved to examine her leg, his hands gentle as they probed for serious injury. "This is going to bruise badly. Ice it when you get home. And please—please—consider using your weapons before resorting to hand-to-hand combat with creatures that are literally made of unstable energy."
"But it's more fun this way," Nana said, watching him work. His dark hair fell slightly forward as he bent to examine her shin, and she had to resist the urge to brush it back. "And it gives you more chances to lecture me in that clinical language with your ice tone."
"My ice tone." He looked up at her, and there was something in his hazel eyes that might have been amusement. "Is that what you call it?"
"Everyone calls it that. Dr. Zayne, the brilliant Iceberg Doctor who talks like a robot and makes patients cry with his brutal honesty."
"I don't make patients cry."
"You told Mrs. Chen her cooking was killing her husband."
"Her cooking was killing her husband. He has heart disease and she was feeding him fried foods every day. Someone needed to tell her."
"You could have been gentler about it."
"Gentle doesn't save lives. Truth does." He finished examining her leg and sat back. "You'll live. Though I question your definition of 'protecting' me if it involves giving yourself new injuries every time."
"I protected you perfectly," Nana argued. "Not a single Wanderer got near you."
"Because you threw yourself at them like a human missile."
"Exactly! Effective."
Zayne sighed—that long-suffering sound she'd heard so many times in Avalon, though he didn't remember any of those instances. He reached into his coat pocket and produced a strawberry candy, placing it in her palm without her even having to ask.
"You're going to deplete my entire supply at this rate," he said.
"Then I'll buy you more," Nana replied, unwrapping the candy with a happy bounce. "I know where you get them. That little shop near the hospital, right? The one that imports the Japanese brand?"
Zayne stared at her. "How do you know that?"
Because I've watched you buy them a dozen times in another timeline. Because I've memorized everything about you, from your candy preferences to the way you check your coat pockets three times before leaving the house.
"Lucky guess," Nana said instead, popping the candy in her mouth.
Zayne didn't look convinced, but he let it go. He started packing up his medical bag, preparing to head back to the clinic and finish with his patients.
"Wait," Nana said. "How are you getting back to the hospital? I don't see your car."
"I came with Dr. Chen. He's picking me up when we're done here." Zayne checked his watch. "Should be another hour or so."
Nana grinned. This was perfect. "I can give you a ride."
"That's not necessary—"
"My motorcycle is right there." She pointed to where her bike was parked, gleaming in the afternoon sun. "And you look exhausted. An hour is a long time to wait when you could be home resting."
Zayne hesitated, clearly torn between professional courtesy and practical exhaustion. The hesitation was brief. Exhaustion won.
"Fine," he said. "But drive carefully. I've seen how you fight. I don't want to know how you drive."
"I'm a very safe driver," Nana lied cheerfully.
She led him to the motorcycle, unable to keep the bounce out of her step. This was progress. Real, tangible progress. In Avalon, they'd ridden together all the time—her on her stolen motorcycle, him holding on behind her as they raced through dying districts.
This wasn't quite the same. But it was close enough to make her heart sing.
Zayne eyed the motorcycle with obvious skepticism. "This seems... inadequate for two people."
"It's fine! I've carried bigger." She swung her leg over and settled into the driver's seat, then patted the space behind her. "Come on, Doctor. I don't bite."
"I'm more concerned about you crashing."
"I've never crashed. Not once." In Avalon, anyway. And technically those weren't crashes so much as tactical dismounts during combat.
Zayne sighed again but climbed on behind her. And immediately positioned himself as far back on the seat as physically possible, like sitting too close would somehow compromise his professional integrity.
Nana grinned. Oh, this wouldn't do at all.
"You might want to hold on," she said innocently.
"I'm fine."
"Suit yourself."
She started the engine and immediately jerked the motorcycle forward—not dangerously, just enough to make it lurch.
Zayne's chest bumped against her back as he instinctively grabbed for stability. His hands landed on her shoulders, and she could feel the warmth of him against her spine.
"Sorry!" Nana called over the engine, not sorry at all. "These old bikes can be temperamental!"
"This bike is brand new," Zayne said dryly, but his hands stayed on her shoulders. "I can see the dealership tags."
"Then I'm just a terrible driver. Better hold on properly."
She felt him hesitate, then slowly, carefully, his arms came around her waist. Not tight—just enough to keep himself stable. Professional. Appropriate.
But his chest was pressed against her back now, and she could feel his heartbeat through her jacket. Could feel the rise and fall of his breathing. Could imagine, for just a moment, that this was Avalon again and he was holding her because he wanted to, not because basic physics demanded it.
"Ready?" she asked.
"Define ready."
Nana laughed and kicked the motorcycle into gear. This time she drove properly—no jerking, no sudden movements. Just smooth acceleration through the city streets toward the hospital district where Zayne lived.
She could feel him gradually relax behind her as he realized she actually could drive like a normal person when she wanted to. His grip on her waist loosened slightly, becoming less about holding on for dear life and more about... just holding on.
They rode in comfortable silence, the city passing by on either side. Evening was approaching, painting everything in shades of gold and orange. People were heading home from work, filling the streets with that rush-hour energy that Linkon was famous for.
And Nana was giving Zayne a ride home on her motorcycle, his arms around her waist, his presence warm and solid against her back.
If she closed her eyes (which she didn't, because that would be terrible driving), she could almost pretend they were back in Avalon. Racing through ruins, searching for supplies, fighting to survive another day.
But this was better. This was real. This was the life they'd fought to get back to.
Even if Zayne didn't remember fighting for it.
"You know," Zayne said quietly, his voice barely audible over the engine, "you don't have to keep showing up everywhere I volunteer."
Nana's heart clenched. "Do you want me to stop?"
A pause. Then: "I didn't say that."
She smiled, even though he couldn't see it. "Good. Because I wasn't planning to."
"Why?" The question was genuine, curious. "Why go to all this trouble? Following me to field assignments, requesting the same missions, showing up at the hospital every other day with increasingly questionable injuries?"
*Because I love you. Because I've loved you across timelines and deaths and impossible circumstances. Because my soul recognizes yours even when you don't recognize mine. Because I promised to bring you home and I did, but now I need to bring you back to me, piece by piece, memory or no memory.*
"Maybe I just really like strawberry candies," Nana said instead.
"I don't believe that for a second."
"Then maybe I like annoying you with my barbarian fighting style."
"Also not believable."
"Fine." Nana took a breath. "Maybe I just... like being around you. Is that so hard to believe?"
Zayne was quiet for a long moment. His arms tightened slightly around her waist—just a fraction, barely noticeable. But Nana noticed everything when it came to him.
"No," he said finally. "It's not hard to believe. Just... unexpected."
"Why unexpected?"
"Because I'm not particularly charming. I talk like a robot, apparently. I have an ice tone. I make patients cry with brutal honesty. Most people find me cold. Unapproachable."
"I don't."
"Clearly." A pause. "You're strange, Nana Wang."
"You're strange too, Zayne Li."
"Fair enough."
They pulled up to his apartment building—a nice complex in a quiet neighborhood, nothing flashy but clearly maintained. Zayne lived on the third floor, Nana knew, in a one-bedroom with a view of the park. She'd memorized these details from the Association database, not that she'd ever admit it.
The motorcycle rumbled to a stop. Zayne dismounted carefully, his arms leaving her waist with what might have been reluctance. Or maybe she was just imagining that.
"Thank you," he said, adjusting his coat. "For the ride. And for the... aggressive protection earlier."
"Anytime." Nana turned to look at him properly. "Really. Anytime. I meant what I said—I'm happy to show up wherever you need medical support. Someone should watch your back out there."
"I can take care of myself."
"I know. But you shouldn't have to."
Something flickered in Zayne's expression—that same recognition she'd seen in the forest, like his soul was trying to tell him something important. He studied her face for a long moment, his hazel eyes searching for something he couldn't quite name.
"Get home safe," he said finally. "And ice that leg. Doctor's orders."
"Yes, Doctor Li." Nana gave him a mock salute. "See you at the hospital?"
"I'm beginning to think I'll see you everywhere."
"That's the plan."
He shook his head, but she caught the hint of a smile before he turned toward his building. She watched him go, watched him pause at the entrance to look back at her.
"Nana?"
"Yes?"
"Next time you want strawberry candies, you don't have to get injured first. You can just ask."
Her heart did a little flip. "Really?"
"Really. I'll requisition a separate supply just for you. Save me the medical paperwork." He paused. "And the near heart attacks."
"Deal."
He nodded and disappeared into the building.
Nana sat on her motorcycle for a moment longer, a grin spreading across her face. Her leg hurt. Her chin was definitely bruised. She was going to be sore tomorrow.
And she'd never been happier.
Three weeks. Three weeks of shameless hospital visits and candy requests and "accidentally" being assigned to the same missions. Three weeks of slowly, carefully, rebuilding what Avalon had taken from them.
It was working.
Slowly, yes. Carefully, yes. But working.
Zayne didn't remember their past. Didn't remember Avalon or the Ancient Tree or the desperate escape through the Wish Bridge.
But he was starting to notice her. Starting to soften around her. Starting to smile despite himself when she showed up with her reckless fighting style and her shameless requests for candy.
Starting to fall for her again, piece by piece, without even realizing it.
Nana kicked the motorcycle back into gear and headed home, already planning her next "coincidental" appearance at wherever Zayne would be volunteering.
Round two was going better than she'd hoped.
And she was just getting started.
.
.
.
.
.
To be continued.